The Wishing Well
by shiratsuki-chan
Summary: A collection of independent works previously submitted to various LiveJournal drabble communities. Includes all flavors of genre, setting and central characters. Blanket T-rating.
1. Forging

_Written for past theme #105 - **Build** over at **iyissekiwa**. This piece was awarded second place._

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**Forging**

For Rin, dying was not unlike the poor village life she'd lived since her mother and father had gone before.

The fear that came when she would forage for her meals, hoping against hope that none of the village men would hear her shuffling in the night.

…_harsh, guttural snarls; snapping jaws at her heels…_

The pain of lashing fists when all her careful treading had been for naught and she'd been found among the rice paddies.

…_the wolves strike, teeth glinting in the half-moon…_

The cold and the dark of winter nights when even the relative shelter of her downtrodden hut cannot shut out the wind.

_...for Rin, the world beyond is darkness, chilling, infinite in its reach…_

But then there is a light in that darkness as behind her eyelids a healing blade swings down; she reaches for it, and the moment she holds on tight, Rin draws the first breath of a second life.

They are curious golden eyes which peer down at her, marveling at the subtle miracle of her daintily flushed cheeks.

_His_ eyes.

Rin does not speak yet, only stares. She can feel the warmth of his hand on her tiny shoulder as he sets her upon her feet. Wordlessly, he stands and continues down the silent path.

She feels a tug at her feet and heeds it blindly.

Underneath the half-moon, her savior seems to shine – a light that reaches out to her in the inky blackness and tells her to follow.

Forever.


	2. The Chain

_Written for past theme #108 - **Line** over at **iyissekiwa**. This piece was awarded second place.  
_

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**The Chain**

It is said that in our final moments we see the grand equation of our lives play out before us; the cosmic reel stretches back across the years in a rush of soundless color, of mistakes, of choices…

Yet as the lady Midoriko lays dying, the sum of all her endless struggle bursting like a newborn babe from her chest, it is not visions of before that come upon her sightless eyes. The world shatters in light and darkness, and in the great between, she sees all that will come from this choice.

This mistake.

She sees the faces of those lives her burden will touch, the fates that it will brand-

_-the chain stretches forward across the years in a rush of soundless color, of mistakes, of choices not her own-_

…and she knows their pain.

And as the world closes around her, the final breath of life cold upon her lips, she sees the echo of a girl not unlike herself and yet so very different. A girl who will face her hardships, her sorrows, her fears, and still carry Hope's heavy torch; rising from adversity not unblemished, not unscathed, but all the stronger for it.

Midoriko smiles.

Her body is almost gone now, caught in the loathsome beast's grip, and yet not even it can rob her of this most intimate knowledge:

Yes, she _would_ be the beginning.

But this…_this_ purest spirit will be the end.


	3. The Weight of Memory

_A/N: Written for past theme #109 - **Violet **over at **iyissekiwa**.**  
**_

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**The Weight Of Memory**

Kagome stared silently across the bright, orange flames of their dwindling campfire, her heart going out to the surly hanyou. With no moon hanging overhead he'd spent every moment since sundown even more on edge than usual, quietly grousing over his temporary bout of humanity. By the time they'd all turned in for the night he'd simmered down into stony silence, but as she peered discretely from the warm depths of her sleeping bag, Kagome could see the wary shift of violet eyes keeping watch over the campsite. _Poor guy, he looks miserable…_

"What are you doing up, wench?"

The miko started. "How'd you know I was awake?" she yawned, shuffling out into the chilly night air.

Inuyasha snorted. "Just 'cause I'm human don't mean I can't hear you moving around in there."

Kagome pasted on a small smile, reading into the words he wasn't quite saying. _He can't afford _not _to be able to hear any of us…or anything out there._ "Is it that bad?" she wondered, winding her arms around raised knees.

"Keh! I can't smell, can't see… I ain't exactly got pleasant memories, if that's what you're getting at."

The crack of dying embers filled the air.

Inuyasha sighed. "Mother, she'd… oi, what are you doing?"

"Let's play a game, Inuyasha," she said as she came up from her rummaging through her bag holding an old deck of cards.

The hanyou looked askance at the suggestion until she stood and softly declared, "We'll make some good memories."


	4. A Brighter Hope

_Written for past theme #112 -_ _**Arrow**_ _over at_ _**iyissekiwa**._ _This piece was awarded second place._

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**A Brighter Hope**

_Hit the mark!_

The arrow sprang free, volleying toward the ancient cedar she'd singled out among the thicket… and went wide, missing rough bark by scant inches. The young miko sighed, wiping at the sweat that'd collected on her brow before fishing out the last feathered end remaining in her quiver. As she readied the arrow for launch, her thoughts carried her right back to their last encounter with the enemy: Naraku.

Her hands had trembled with rage as she thought of the broken slayer, another innocent life uprooted by evil, touched by the taint of misery that followed the Shikon no Tama. Her anger had burned white-hot that day, and her aim had ultimately suffered for it. Though Naraku had been forced to retreat, they all knew it wasn't the last they would see of him.

All she'd been able to think about at first was how she'd squandered her chance.

But then she'd realized that they hadn't walked away from the ordeal empty-handed. Sango, though still on the mend, had chosen to stay with them, and though there was still much they didn't know about the foe they all shared in common, it was obvious now that he at least possessed a weakness.

Kagome took a breath.

Then the final arrow burst from her bow in a flash of holy light, splintering the aged wood as it buried itself just short of the center.

She smiled grimly.

It wasn't perfect… but for now it was enough.


End file.
